I just sent you a real email wishing you a happy birthday, and of course asking you to put in a good word for me at your place of employment. But I felt kind of bad that it’s been almost a decade, so I figured it was high time I send you one of these letters as well.

We met at camp, when I was 17 or so and had absolutely no clue had to read signs from females. That sentence implies that I do now…but rest assured I’m still sort of an assclown when it comes to that. We got close, but you made it painfully clear you weren’t interested in making out or anything along those lines by hooking up most of the summer with a red-head. Way to pour salt in the wound (just kidding, I have nothing against gingers…they do have souls). But then, on one of the last nights out I found myself alone with you, both inebriated, and you gave me the most backhanded compliment of all time.

You pretty much told me that you always liked me as a friend, but weren’t attracted to me…but the more you got to know me, the more attractive I became because as everyone knows, my personality sparkles. What I should’ve done was kiss you right then and there, instead of focusing on the beginning of your explanation, where I (still) think you called me ugly. In my mind, you basically compared me to George Costanza in this classic scene (effing youtube rules…can’t embed it, but go to the 51 second mark and you’ll catch my drift).

Thanks for comparing me to a short, stalky bald man.

It’s not as if I outwardly got angry at you for calling me unattractive, I was just kind of dumbfounded. What precisely, did you want me to do with this new information? Mind you, your ginger-boy was like 30 feet away, and even though it was just a ‘summer camp relationship,’ the two of you were still together, as much as you can be. So, instead of just going for some tongue action, I stalled and stammered out,

“I kind of want to kiss you right now…” To which you responded (with a small twinkle in your eye I might add), “You don’t need to ask my permission.”

At which point, of course, Ginger walked up to us. If “Old School” had already been made, I’m sure I would’ve said, “Good talk…see you out there.” But it hadn’t, and since I rarely speak in anything but movie quotes, I just stumbled away awkwardly and left you to explain.

So, in short…I regret not kissing you, but I can’t imagine the makeout session would’ve been worth pissing off a red-head.

I do apologize for confessing my love for you in that bar about 6 years ago. Wow 6 years has made me melodramatic…I definitely didn’t use that four letter bomb, but I still said something along the lines of, “I like you…more than a friend…make out with me.” Probably not the last part, but I’m sure this is enough of a reminder for you.

Anyway, I apologize for a multitude of reasons. At first I thought it was because I risked five or so years of a great friendship for something that in the back of my mind, I knew wasn’t going to be there. You were/still are far too concerned about appearances to date someone like me (I don’t come off as a WASP, my bad). It took me a year or so to realize that I wasn’t sorry because I risked the friendship, I was sorry because my feelings for you simply weren’t true. This reason is actually all on me, as opposed to the previous (and forthcoming) reason that make you kind of seem like a callous bitch. I had just moved to a new town, where most of my friends lived about 30 minutes away, and you and I basically did something together, alone, like three nights a week. That, and the fact that I always had a minor crush on you, led directly to my misplaced feelings. Sorry for putting that on you.

I’m also sorry because I can’t believe I told someone who has the potential to be such an awful person that I liked her, as proved by the fact that within one month of me divulging that info you hooked up with not one, but two of my close friends. None of them talked about you in negative ways behind your back…promise.

Let me ask you something, was doing that somehow a way to really drive your point home? You didn’t need to touch two of my friends schlongs to do that you know. You, and you deserve credit for this, were extremely effective and quite nice even, in the way you told me that you, “just didn’t think of me that way.” It actually seemed as if our friendship would be just fine. But then, you know…you went and kind of slutted around for a bit. And now whenever we run into each other, it is awkward…because I know that you know that I know what you did, and at the time it really hurt me, and now I just feel sorry for you.

So I guess this is a cautionary tale, just because a hot girl is hanging out with you consistently, doesn’t mean you should A. fall in love with her or B. that she is worth falling in love with in the first place.

You realize that if you knocked on my door today, and asked me to marry you there is about a 77% chance I’d say “yes.” This is a very big deal, given a few things: 1. I’ve never been in what most would call a long term relationship, so jumping right into a marriage would be kind of a bold move. 2. While it’s cool you were in a movie with Robin Williams, said movie has less than a 5 rating on IMDB, so it would go against my nature to associate with someone from that (kidding, kind of). 3. I have not seen, or heard from you, since summer camp 1996, so you might no longer be tall, gorgeous, and sweet.

Yes...I was the cool kid who wore a hat to the camp banquet

I mean, for effs sake Helena, look at you (blurred face notwithstanding), how could I not have fallen in love with you back in the day. Granted, we only had a few weeks a year to spend together, but perhaps it was the other 49 weeks where I built up the affection I have (I mean, had) for you. It’s a damn good thing facebook and gchat weren’t around back then, I have a feeling you might have placed some kind of cyber-restraining order against me. Speaking of which, why the hell are you still not on facebook? I know you always went against the grain a bit, after all you were a hot girl who was best friends with me, but just give in and create an account, if only to reconnect.

Wait, this is supposed to be a letter to an ex…but you are not really an ex of any sort. I was simply infatuated with you, and though I’m sure you knew it, it was never discussed. I was a gangly, incredibly awkward 14 year old with a mouth full of braces (which seems to be a reoccurring theme in these old-school letters), and you were a 15 year old moviestar who looked 20; hence, there was extremely little point in trying to make you my girlfriend for the better part of July. But honestly, that isn’t really important.

Not to be super cheesy, but what is important the friendship we had. I did indeed cherish it…back then I thought it was because I got to spend copious amounts of time talking one on one to the hottest girl at camp during rest hours, pool or A’s & C’s (arts & crafts…hey I needed a rest from all the athletics and it was a great place to pick up chicks). Actually, I just realized the last sentence is entirely true. I think our friendship gave me a level of confidence with females that I didn’t have prior. Becoming close and talking all the time with a beautiful female tends to have that effect on me…even if we weren’t making out after talking. I realize that most of my letters make me appear like an insecure, sarcastic asshole, which is true of course, but I think without you, Helena, I’d be even worse off.

Hope all is well, wherever the hell you are,

Steak (as in, opposite of ‘Chicken’…get it? Of course you do, no one else does though!)

I’m going to try to make this letter as nice as possible, though given the deterioration of whatever it is we had, it might be difficult. I guess I’ll start with the harshest sentence you’ll read. I figure it’s easier this way, instead of treating you like a New York Jets fan, where I’m really nice to you at the start, reel you in, and then deliver harsh blow after harsh blow for the remainder of the season, er, letter. Yet, as always, I digress. Ok, here goes nothing: I want absolutely nothing to do with you for the rest of our respective lives, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

I mean, really, think about it…what would be the effing point? Let’s focus on a couple major points: 1. you are engaged to a guy who for some reason feels threatened by me 2. To be honest, I just don’t really have a good time when we socialize. As per issue #2, it’s not that you are a bad person, because you are quite nice, but for me, ‘nice’ is about the nicest thing I can say about you. I just think our personalities don’t mix very well. And issue #1, why the hell would you want me to come to your poker night, or grab dinner with you, when A. you know I’ve been avoiding you for like two years now and B. it would piss your fiancee off.

We went out on one date, ONE DATE! I realize that after said date, we would hang out every so often, but did you not realize it was just a matter of convenience for both of us? Both of us were somewhat new to small towns, and because we are both nice people we wanted to help integrate each other into the social pipelines. Well, from that standpoint, we were quite successful. Only we ended up in completely separate social circles. And I’m not here to tell you mine is cooler than yours or anything like that, but they are simply different. And when I have free time from my own social circle, I want to enjoy some me time (not in that way, get your mind out of the gutter)…hence, not with you and your crew.

At least we have a better relationship that Col. Jessup & Lt. Kaffee...Photo Courtsey of LATimes.com

So, when you would call, or text, or email at first I would come up with an excuse as to why I couldn’t; then after those wore off I started coming up with lame excuses; until finally I just stopped responding whatsoever. Every time I think I get my point across (like when you don’t contact me after a few weeks), I get some desperate message from you about how you ‘miss me’ and how we ‘never hang out anymore.’ Um, yeah, we haven’t in about four years. So hopefully this letter seals the deal.

Again, I’m not trying to come off as an asshole…even though I know that is how I sound. My major point in all this is that everyone our age has pretty busy lives – trying to manage work, in some cases school, friends, significant others, dating, family, all that crap…when we have down time away from all that we should be able to spend it in any way we see fit. And like I said, hanging out with you is not a good fit for me. Would it be better if I gave in and we had an awkward, uncomfortable dinner where you realized face to face that I don’t enjoy your company? I didn’t think so.

Finally, I’d be remiss not to say…as a woman in her upper 20′s facebook status’ that beg for sympathy are simply inexcusable. Saying crap like, “feeling lonely tonight” is not going to make me want to reach out and grab a drink with you…it makes we want to throw up in my mouth a little, only because I know it’s not genuine.

Clear enough for you?

Crystal I hope.

ps – This is neither here nor there because we both knew we were never going to be an item 10 minutes into our single date, but hooking up with my two best friends within a couple weeks of that date wasn’t the classiest thing to do.